


The Floorboards

by Jqck



Category: gang baby gang, krii7y - Fandom
Genre: Horror, M/M, Spooky, ghost - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-23
Updated: 2018-10-23
Packaged: 2019-08-06 08:08:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16384415
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Jqck/pseuds/Jqck
Summary: This is the first time I wrote horror, and it's because of Ghosstkid's horror-a-day challenge on Tumblr. I'm sorry for writing Bordie this way, and I'll definitely make a fic where she'll be badass and hands-down amazing!(Also, yes, I'm still working on The Crew of Light's chapter 8 and epilogue. If I wouldn't have any mental breakdown, then I can publish chapter 8 next week, the epilogue the week after! I am so excited because I've worked hard for those installments! <3)Also, a very dear friend of mine drew an art of this fic! Here is the link: https://hubcat99.tumblr.com/post/179658476457/this-was-inspired-by-stillnotjack-story-called?is_related_post=1If you could thank them for me, that would be so cool! <3Enjoy!





	The Floorboards

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first time I wrote horror, and it's because of Ghosstkid's horror-a-day challenge on Tumblr. I'm sorry for writing Bordie this way, and I'll definitely make a fic where she'll be badass and hands-down amazing!
> 
> (Also, yes, I'm still working on The Crew of Light's chapter 8 and epilogue. If I wouldn't have any mental breakdown, then I can publish chapter 8 next week, the epilogue the week after! I am so excited because I've worked hard for those installments! <3)
> 
> Also, a very dear friend of mine drew an art of this fic! Here is the link: https://hubcat99.tumblr.com/post/179658476457/this-was-inspired-by-stillnotjack-story-called?is_related_post=1
> 
> If you could thank them for me, that would be so cool! <3
> 
> Enjoy!

John blinked in disbelief.

He and Smitty had been on a vacation. It was fun—the beach house had a glass wall that faced the ocean. The water was in the lightest blue, and John couldn’t tell where the ocean ended and the sky began. Even with his sandals, the sand found their way to dig into his soles, stick between his toes, and lodge themselves in his toenails. He hated that part of their beach vacations, but he was starting to not mind it because Smitty would always crouch in front of him and rid his feet of those stupid prickly things.

Today, they decided to go home even though they were supposed to leave next Monday. It was because there was an incoming storm, and it was all over the news. Their luck ran out when their car broke down on the middle of the road that had forested plains on both sides. It was four in the afternoon but the sky couldn’t be any grayer, the trees becoming violent because of the intense wind as if something were pulling them out. Lightning hit something near them and it gave the sky a milisecond view of how bright a day could be on a good weather. Thunder rolled in the distance and that was when he and Smiity took their things and decided to find shelter for the night.

And when they did, John couldn’t believe what he’s seeing. A young lady, probably in her twenties, had a cat on her shoulder and another one on her arm, cradled like a baby. Her eyes flew wide at the sight of two foreigners by her doorstep, her mouth stretching further to her ears as she eyed Smitty.

What the fuck?

That wasn’t the worse part. It was the house. From the outside, it looked fine—metal railings bracketing the balconies, bright red bricks stacked up to the green roof, clear windows with white sills and sheer curtains behind them, a door engraved with flowers and vines, a chimney with white curling smoke wafting out of it. The house looked so homely.

Not inside.

With what he could see through the big sliver of the door, the chandelier swayed dangerously and it looked like it was made of tin and broken bulbs that clanked like spoon and fork as if the sight of John and Smitty made the house hungry. Its light was dim and was creating more shadowy illusions than illumination. The carpeted floor had different shades of red, and John damn hoped it was dust or spilled water. The staircase that ran up the wall was so unstable because it was already groaning even though no one was climbing it. There was a couch and a round table at the center of the room—clean and brand new—and they were the only normal-looking furniture in the house. Or so he thought. Underneath the frills at the foot of the couch, there was a whiskered snout poking out and tiny yet sharp paws. And it seemed to notice John staring because its mouth snarled, revealing white bloody teeth snapping at his direction.

John blinked again.

“Sorry,” As he grabbed Smitty’s hand, John backtracked slowly. “We’re just here to ask directions, but I suddenly remembered the way. Have a good day!”

But when the two of them turned around, the rain peltered so hard that even when the lightning struck, they couldn’t see the rest of the pathway where they came from.

“Fuck,” John whispered. “I’d bet it’ll feel like bullets if we try to run.”

Smitty shivered and stepped closer to John. “I don’t feel good around here.”

“I know,” John tugged Smitty closer, “I saw how she looked at you. She may be young, but there’s something cunning about her. I’ll protect you.”

“Excuse me, sirs?” The two of them turned, John nervous because he thought the girl snuck up to them and heard their conversation. “It looks like it has rained too hard. I can make you coffee or a chocolate drink as you wait for the downpour to stop.”

The cats she was carrying hissed and clawed at them. “Hush, Diamond. Miner. It’s rude to do that to our visitors.”

John and Smitty locked terrified eyes. ‘Diamond miner’ had been their inside joke whenever they had to name something of theirs. Their vacuum. Their pet snake. Usernames. Dummy accounts.

“Come,” The girl had dark lips that seemed like reddish bruises on her very young face. Her long orange hair was curly and cascaded on her back, bouncing as she walked. She was wearing the brightest white dress that competed with her very pale complexion.

John entered first and as if in protest, the floorboards underneath the carpet bent against his weight with a hair-raising creak. This shitty house could go and fuck itself–John wasn’t scared; he even tried to dig his soles into the floor some more as a petty comeback. He followed the girl to the hallway, making sure he was between the girl and Smitty. But when he looked back, his boyfriend was still one step inside the house, looking down at his converse.

At first, John was confused as to why he was just standing there. Until Smitty held John’s gaze firmly and took one step closer to him.

The floorboard didn’t groan. Smitty put his weight on his toes, but nothing.

“What the fuck is this place?”

The light from the outside that basked Smitty and the floor wasn’t that bright, but John could still see an angular shadow taking its place. He realized the door was closing on its own, and with panic and adrenaline shooting up his brain, John jolted and leaped for the door to stop it from closing, the floor screaming every time his feet met its surface.

The moment his hands slammed on the door was also the moment he heard a click.

The lock was bolted home.

“Shit, shit, shit.” Smitty paced soundlessly, as John tried the doorknob. “What is this we found? Fuck. This house feels very… crooked.”

John rammed his shoulder on the door, his hair bouncing all over his face making him spit. “I swear to God Isaw windows and a chimney from the outside, but there’s nothing of those in here.” He cursed when he hurt his shoulder a bit. “If this bitch is up to something, I’m going to kill her.” He tried one last slam but to no avail.

He puffed a breath in surrender and stared at Smitty. “We’re not going to be separated in here. We’ll be wary. I have a knife in my shoes and you have your fancy belt with knuckles. You can use that. Knock some bitch’s teeth and–”

“John,” Smitty rubbed his palms on his face. “This is serious.”

“I know,” John wrapped an arm around Smitty when he noticed that the man was indeed stressed out and anxious, and he kissed his temples. “We’ll get through this together, yeah?”

With a sigh, Smitty nodded and ribboned his fingers with his. Then with a pair of footsteps, two thundering chests, and hands that gripped each other, John and Smitty walked towards the end of the hall.

The red carpet stretched here as well, but the brown wallpapers were peeling to expose walls as white as teeth. The deeper they were in the hallway, the lesser the decorations the walls sported. There were no windows around here as well, but the lights would blink on them whenever thunders crashed.

It could be John’s imagination, but he felt like every time the lights flickered, the dark lingered longer than the last time the light blinked on them.

They met the end of the hall where the carpet ended–it was all white there, clean and spotless too. And John didn’t want to admit but he was damn terrified with what they’d see when they peaked at the corner.

But they didn’t have the opportunity to do that because a lightning struck just outside the house and shook the ground. The lights were cut off and the hallways were drenched in pitch black darkness. The silence that came right after only amplified the screaming of his heart.

John pressed closed to Smitty, the two of them straining their lungs as they forgot how to breathe.

So imagine his fear when there was breathing at John’s right, hot steam blowing at his cheeks that shuffled his eyelashes and hair. It smelled rot and rust. Spit showered him, too, as if whoever that was, he was speaking soundlessly to John.

His free hand cupped his mouth to avoid the scream that was at the borders of his throat. He didn’t want to scare Smitty, so for a long ass time, he was paralyzed with fear right there.

“J-John?” Smitty squeaked.

The air on John’s face stopped blowing. He would have been fucking grateful of its retreat if he weren’t too wobbly on his knees, the vile was right there in his throat with his heart. Since he couldn’t speak yet, he squeezed Smitty’s hand to let him know John heard him.

And in a very small voice, Smitty said, “Someone is holding my other hand. It’s so cold and it’s so wet, John. I am so. fucking. scared.”

That was it–that was what made him move. John pulled Smitty down as he snatched the knife from his sole and slashed blindly. Left and right, up and down. The blade met air and the surface of walls as he thought  _if this entity’s spit could touch John, then it must be tangible and could be hurt with a knife, right?_

RIGHT?!

And then the light flickered open, finding themselves in the same hallway, but in a fighting stance and the girl peeking from the corner, a surprised look on her face.

“Oh, no, sir. Please store away your knife please. No one will try to rob you right here. I’m not lying. I can’t lie.”

“THAT IS BU–”

“Nice of you!” Smitty filled in, his other hand in his pocket. “To assure us, I mean. Dear, thank you for protecting me in the dark. We’re just paranoid. We don’t need that anymore.” Smitty faked shiver and purposely changed the topic. “Oooh. I’m cold. Do you have blank coffee, lady?”

The girl’s face lit up. “Oh, yes! Wonderful! The kitchen is this way!”

When she was out of sight, John snatched Smitty’s pocketed hand, and there they saw a gash on the palm, bleeding.

A tear escaped Smit’s eyes, and his sobs were heavy in the hallway.

“My heart is going to escape out of my fucking chest. I’m so fucking scared.”

“Smit. Look me in the fucking eyes.” John pulled his chin up and chased those brown eyes. “Everyone would be scared in this situation. Fuck. I’m scared too, but I won’t let anything happen to you. I’m going to protect you. And even if that’s the last thing I’d do, so be it. Just…just please don’t cry. ”

John wiped his man’s tears with his fingers, while he used the hem of his jacket to erase the sight of blood on Smitty’s palm.

“M'kay.” Smitty swallowed once he was calmer. “Okay.”

The next corner was a short hallway that led to the kitchen, just like the girl had said. They warily walked towards the end and a wooden table with three chairs came into view. It was a normal kitchen, with counters that ran on the wall, pans that swayed on hooks, wooden cupboards that bulged–one blow away from busting their locks because of how full they were. Corner of cloths stuck out of them and water dripped from the cupboards, which made John hope that this house just had piping issues.

But that was fine–John was incredibly relieved to see windows there, clear rectangular things that showed him it was still dark and raining out there.

It didn’t matter. At least he could make those their escape route since doors here close themselves.

The girl was already seated with her own cup of coffee in her hands. Two other mugs steamed on the table in front of the vacant chairs. There were also cookies on a plate, their surface brimming with tiny chocolates, and in a different situation, John would no doubt devour them in one bite.

“Have a seat. Black coffee, just like you wished.”

“What is your name?” John casually asked as he slowly dropped into his seat.

“Border!” The girl screeched, and the John nearly jumped out of his skin.

“Border what?” Smitty eyed the girl in white.

“My name, you silly. It sucks, I know. My friends call me Bordie, though! So you can call me Bordie!” Her mouth nipped the rim of the mug she was holding, not really drinking its contents.

“This is such a big house. Who do you live with?” Smitty inquired as casual as he could, but John saw the trembling of his hand as he lifted the mug onto his mouth. He, too, didn’t sip anything.

And John admired that grace under pressure and danger of his boyfriend, unlike himself. He would have spat the highest form of sarcasm and insult if it were him she was conversing with.

“I’m just with my pets. I’m pretty much alone except for the days lost people like you knock into my door.”

“We’re not lost. We just wanted somewhere to stay in while it rains.” John countered.

“Oh? I thought you said you didn’t know the direction back home?”

Shit. He did imply that earlier. “And I said I suddenly remember right? So we’re not lost.”

“OH, but you didn’t know the way when I opened the door. So technically you were still lost when you appeared to my doorstep. Ha! I win!”

Smitty looked at John. John looked at Smit. They both gazed at the girl.

She grinned, the displayed mirth stayed there and did not extend to her blue eyes. “So, let’s talk about you guys. What’s your name?”

“I’m John, and this is…Jess.” He coughed to mask the hesitation in giving Smitty’s name. “We’re together for almost two years now.”

“Oh, how delightful!” The girl clapped her hands, and John started to notice her white teeth seemingly sharper than normal–her fangs couldn’t be hidden by her lips even when her mouth was closed. “It’s weird, though. It’s always couples who stumble upon this house. Last week it was a clown and his buff boyfriend. Last month it was a man with a glorious beard and another with a gray bandana. The month before that it was a man who wore zebra pants who’s always a snob to his lover who always talked into his headset.”

“Yeah, that’s weird.” Smit laughed nervously. “There must be something drawing us to this house.”

That was when the girl dropped all her defenses, her face falling gaunt from the swollen cheekbones from high smiles and bright eyes. She knew that Smitty was aware how strange this house was, that right now she knew that  _he knew_ something was brewing for the two newcomers too.

The tension blanketed them, thick and heavy that even the cats jumped on their paws and scrambled away from the kitchen. John took action and stir the topic to another direction. “Surely, you have single visitors before? The house is very beautiful when you view it from the road.”

“Jess, did you undergo surgery before?” A  bead of sweat rolled across Bordie’s left eyebrow, ignoring John altogether. And John knew this was the start.

“Uhh, no. Why are you asking?”

“How about scars? You know, when you were young and didn’t care about gashes here and there?”

“No. I wasn’t the kind who wanted to play sports or with other kids.”

“Oh. I thought so! Your skin is so smooth I—” she was reaching to touch Smit but she turned, hissed, and snarled at John. “WHAT DID I TELL YOU EARLIER?! STORE AWAY YOUR KNIFE!”

John’s heart stopped, not because of how the girl knew he was reaching for it nor the sudden violent behavior. It was because her voice became two—one deeper and one younger. Her body seemed like a shaking mirage too, like two photos trying to merge but they were not just identical so something would not be exact the same.

That was her now. But with more hunger for Smit as her saliva dripped onto the lip of her coffee mug.

Smitty stood up, his chair falling on the floor. John grabbed his boyfriend’s hand and tried to pull them out of Bordie’s sight, but Smitty just stayed there, bravely facing her.

“The rain stopped, Bordie.”

Eyes widened on that little face, ears twitching as she tried to hear the rain from outside. And when she met silence, her hands clawed into his lower lids and she bawled, “No!”

John took a step back from the girl and tried to pull Smitty with him, but his boyfriend flung the table the stood between them and the girl–he even stepped forward.

“You told us we can stay until the rain stops. It stopped. You can’t lie. We can go.”

“Please!” Bordie’s mouth melted and her hands desperately molded her face back as she pleaded. “Your skin is so soft. I’ve never seen a skin so flawless before. Stay with me, Jess. Help me become pretty again.” Her two voices echoed.

And then the windows automatically opened and when John couldn’t take Smitty’s crazy bravery, he yanked the man and pushed him out of the window first.

John climbed out right after.

“I know your name! I know them!”

“Not our real names, witch!” He yelled over his shoulder.

He saw her eyes, which became slits, fluttered many times as she processed the words. “No,” she shook her head in denial. “No! I will find you. Just like how I found Tyler, David, Luke, Ryan, Evan, and Jonathan.”

As he heard the last name, John faltered in his steps and nearly fell down on the muddy ground.

That was a huge mistake.

“RUN. RUN AS FAST AS YOU CAN AND DON’T FUCKING LOOK BACK.” His throat flamed as he yelled that at Smitty, his voice echoing onto the empty road.

John abused his legs to the run, and they were almost a kilometer away from the house when he heard something horribly wrong, his spine twisting with panic, his eyes almost popping out of their sockets with dread.

John slowed into a stop.

He watched Smitty’s back, his hair that bounced as he ran, his arms that pumped at his sides, those lean legs that were always so strong and steady. His face that rippled with worry when he found John just standing. His careful steps towards John like a nurse to a wounded. The warmth when his hand slid from John’s neck to cup his jaw.

“How did you know she really can’t lie?” John asked in a soft tone.

John stood there and watched wariness take over his man’s features. Smitty–his Smitty–was smart. He knew something was wrong, but he didn’t let go of John’s face. “Before we go to the kitchen, I saw colorful smudges on one of the walls like the make-up of the clown. Also found a snapped headset jack in one of the shattered bulbs of the chandelier, a gray chief wrapped around the neck of Miner, and a ripped zebra cloth caught at the foot of the chair you took in the kitchen. When she was telling stories of her visitors, it all just clicked.”

John sighed, his gaze dropping to the ground. “Please remove my shoes, Smit. Take the knife away from me.”

“W-What?”

“Do you trust me?”

Smitty stared at him for one minute before doing what he was told, but when he jumped back up, he planted a kiss on John’s lips. And John wanted to fucking howl and tear apart his own body.

Because he didn’t feel the kiss. No warmth. Not tingling sensation. No taste of mint and coffee. None.

“What did she do, John?” Those eyes firmly held John’s, both of his hands caressing his cheeks. “Tell me.”

But John didn’t have to speak–he just had to step back and back and back. A tear fell on Smitty’s cheeks with every backward step as they listened to the sound of his footfalls.

John’s soles disturbed muddy puddles, but the sound they were creating was the creaking of floorboards.

The puddle reflected John’s image, and there he saw Bordie’s face over his shoulder, grinning like a maniac.

“John is short for another name, isn’t it… .Jonathan?”

And John extended his arm to Smitty before he became smoke as white as his platinum blonde hair.

**Author's Note:**

> Also, I'm a member of a BBS shipping server, and I want to share it with everyone here because it's been awesome since I joined! The fandom is so alive in there! Like I get to see amazing fanarts and fanfics. ^_^ They are also very kind and welcoming, and my being introvert didn't hinder me from having great conversations because people in there are awesome and supportive! Here is the server invitation: https://discordapp.com/invite/3nmMMgU
> 
> Or if that doesn't work, here is the tumblr page of our server: https://bbsshippingpirates.tumblr.com/ (you can see the server invite button below the picture <3)
> 
> I'm semi-active in there but I'll always come when you tag me! <3


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